


During The Night

by orphan_account



Series: A Study In Emotion [3]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Red POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:56:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1364839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red lost in thought. Part of my Study in Emotion series, takes place between chapters 6 and 7 of Close Quarters. Red POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	During The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: This takes place in between chapters six and seven. Lizzie is asleep while Red is working on the bedside her on the bed with a laptop. So this takes place before Lizzie cuddled up to Red. I don’t think he got much work done though, because he kept getting distracted with thoughts of Lizzie. First person, Red POV. If you don’t like first person, I don’t introduce anything important to the story in this. It was mainly just an exercise in getting into Red’s thought process.

It’s an odd feeling, letting someone in after so long.  Having someone sleep beside me, trusting not only in my ability to keep them safe but also that they are safe from me.  Lapsed time has rendered the experience novel and new. 

Not that I have been celibate by any meaning of the word – quite the enthusiastic opposite – but the actual act of sleeping next to someone; that required trust that I don’t have in many people. Or that others often found in me.

But she trusts me.

Her trust was a timid, fragile thing at first, but it grew and became stronger. At times I think she fights against it, digging into her stubbornness and growling at me like a kicked dog, as if by convincing me she can in turn convince herself. That reluctance to trust will serve Lizzie well; keep her safe in the instances where I cannot. It will keep her alive, and as emotionally whole as I can hope for in the trials that are to come. Its usefulness doesn’t decrease the urge I feel to make the people who betrayed her trust live a short and agonizing life.   
   
With that trust comes other opportunities.

 Lizzie is becoming more open to the idea of a more intimate relationship with me, if her responses to my rather unsubtle testing of her physical responses earlier this evening are any indication.  She does not, I think, have strong romantic feelings for me beyond affection and an appreciation of my appearance.

Not unsurprising, nor all that disappointing. She will be as slow, or perhaps even slower, in her allowance of romantic feelings to form as she was of the trust she has in me. Affection and desire are more than enough to carry on with. The rest will come with time, as the memory of Tom’s betrayal is supplanted by myself and the age old cure of time.

Her blindness toward my own multifaceted regard for her is… perplexing, to say the least.  Even now, she is blind to it, despite my obvious (in my own opinion, at least) portrayal of my regard for her this afternoon. 

The end result of Lizzie’s blindness is that she can quite unwittingly and merrily torture me to half to death with sexual frustration with barely the slightest reprisal from myself.  

In the past twelve hours alone I have astonished even myself in my ability to control myself.

Such as earlier, in the bathroom with her parading around in her bra, the fear and protectiveness I was feeling for her enabled me to resist the urge to introduce her to alternate methods of pain relief.   

Then, as made dinner for us both, the sight of her in the kitchen doorway clad in my shirt and skin tight yoga pants. I wonder if it would shock Lizzie, the possessively primitive, very male thoughts that urged to pull her toward me, push her onto the counter, pull down those pants and make her squirm while I placed marks on her in places only I would see. Although… I wouldn’t want that lovely neck of hers to feel neglected or unwanted (as well as showing others that Lizzie was mine), so maybe I would have started at her neck then worked my way down.

I should know better than to focus on these sorts of thoughts while Lizzie is sleeping so peacefully beside me. It leaves me with a problem that I am not in a position to indulge.  

At least now I have the laptop as a tool to help distract myself from the very dangerous prospect of having Lizzie in my bed, while wearing my clothing. I do need to sleep tonight though, at least a couple of hours, but I am not worried about that. I do not tend to move in my sleep, so as long as Lizzie stays to her side of the bed, the start of our little bed sharing adventure should go off smoothly.

Lizzie was exhausted this evening, if her lack of protest over sharing a bed with me is anything to go by.  Lizzie would have protested out of principle if she had had any more energy.  I would have gotten my way anyway; I don’t think she realizes just what a concession she gave me with the deal we made earlier. 

“Honestly, Lizzie, any security measure? For all your expertise at arguing, that was a singularly horrible deal you made. I would have given you much more than simply letting go of that incident with the gravel barrel – although it was rather naively cute of you to think I didn’t already know of it by the time you arrived at my house – in order to have you following any every security measure I can possibly think of without protest or discussion. I’m half way tempted to become a petty tyrant and think of outlandish and  elaborate security measures just to make sure that the next time you have to make a deal, you remember this incident, and act accordingly. At least you remembered to stipulate a time period,” I said softly to the figure sleeping on the other side of the bed.

I paused in flipping through various electronic documents on the screen to look over at Lizzie, who was snuggled carefully down into the duvet. I would have to be careful of Lizzie’s upper back for the next few days. It would not slow her down if we had to flee, but accidentally touching those portions of her back would be uncomfortable for her, to say the least.

At least I am not in the habit of haphazardly touching her. Lizzie drives me crazy enough without adding to it myself.  
 


End file.
